


Things you said after a one night stand

by skyekingsleigh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, One Night Stand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyekingsleigh/pseuds/skyekingsleigh
Summary: They stared at each other for a while, their laughter slowly dying and the cheers from their ‘audience’ growing faint. The matching grins on their faces were wearing off, replacing with a look of passion.





	Things you said after a one night stand

**Author's Note:**

> So, i don't really ship harmony (my main ship is cedmione–i know, i'm weird) but i did try so...

The moon was solely the only thing visible in the firmament, glowing quite bright in contrast to the almost pitch black sky. The Christmas air was harsh and cold, leaving Hermione to hug her coat tighter against her body. When she adorned the pair of heeled boots that she was wearing now, she didn’t thought of how difficult it would be to walk in the snow with it. She chose it simply for fashionable means, and it was a wrong choice, indeed. 

She was going to go meet up with a few of her friends at the local pub in town, but her plans had changed. Instead, she was dragged to the single most place she’d promise herself not to go to: a frat party. How cliché could one be? Not more than five minutes after their arrival, she was already left alone to fend for herself. Hermione was offered drinks left and right and she was getting pretty tired of declining them so she decided to leave. Yes, with no form of transportation available, she left. She really needs to sort out her decisions. 

Then there’s Harry. 

He didn’t even know why he was at a party on a school night. All he knew was that the girl he fancies went out on a date with his best friend and he needed to get away. Only, frat parties are his best friend’s thing and that completely slipped off his mind until he saw them making out near the pool. Yep, it wasn’t a pretty sight. For a moment he truly believed he was just seeing things and blamed it on the alcohol; but whom was he kidding? He didn’t even have any alcoholic beverages tonight. So, with crushed hopes and slumped shoulders, he left. (May be the best decision he made his entire life, actually)

They met in a surprisingly overrated way. 

Hermione was dragging her feet in long, slow steps, walking quite like the zombies you see in that particular TV series. Harry, on the other hand, was in a rush. Like, mad rush that he didn’t even bother looking anywhere but his swiftly moving feet. And yes, they had bumped into each other. 

On second thought, was it overrated that she hit him with her purse?

“Ouch!” Harry yelled in surprise. “Blimey, lady, whatever did I do for you to hit me?”

“Stop trying to sound old, it isn’t working!” Hermione snapped, catching her breath. “And, by the way, if you weren’t running like a hold upper then maybe I would’ve classified you as…. Innocent.”

“What are you, a lawyer? I was in a rush because-“ he was cut off his sentence by the sound of sirens. Loads of them. Apparently there was another reason to rush off.   
They both looked at the direction the sound was coming from in alarm, eyes widening. “Well, that could be it, too.”

They shared an amused look before taking off in the same direction, and somehow when Hermione started to slow down, Harry took it upon himself to hold her arm so that she could keep up with his strides. Everything was a mess, really. But the excitement of it all was hard to forget. 

Once they were sure that no cops had followed them, they halted to a stop. Coincidentally, they were only a few blocks away from the pub that Hermione had previously been. She looked at Harry, her chest still heaving up and down from the adrenaline. “So, what now?” 

“I don’t know about you, but I quite fancy getting a few drinks tonight. I was at a party, after all.” Harry says, shrugging the few snowflakes on his shoulders and heading towards the pub. 

Hermione pursed her lips before following him. “You _were_ at a party; haven’t you taken in a few alcoholic beverages?” 

“Nah,” he says, looking back at her. “I left not even an hour after I got there, you’d understand why.”

“I actually don’t. Care to explain?” 

By now, they were standing in front of the entrance door of the pub. The words ‘night in’ were shining brightly in greens and reds, the whole pub decorated especially for the season. Christmas lights were lining every corner and Hermione was beginning to question how she didn’t notice the decors earlier. 

“Alright, I will. Only when I’m already tipsy, though.” Harry smirks at her before entering. The familiar ring of the bell snaps Hermione back to her senses and she follows right after him. 

The pub was your normal go-to bar; very poor lighting, a distinct smell of cheap liquor and the usual TV playing some sports game. Hermione was pretty sure the only ones left were the commoners who are here every night. Other than that, the place was almost close to empty. 

That didn’t stop Harry from cheering along with the group of guys who were watching the baseball game, though. Hermione had to refrain from rolling her eyes at the sudden disruption of the silence she was only starting to enjoy. 

 

They placed themselves on the empty seats on the bar, quite near the television. The bartender was a girl, maybe in her thirties, her arms completely tatted, full sleeve. She has on heavy eye make up and shitty eyeliner, her lipstick smudged. She makes Hermione (and Harry) want to cringe. She was far from the nice young lad bartending a while ago, Hermione noticed. 

“What can I get you two for the night?” the girl had asked, her voice even more cringe-worthy than her appearance. Normally, Hermione was never judgmental especially when it comes to physical appearances. She wasn’t sure what was up with her. 

Harry looked at her, silently asking her what she wants. Hermione just shrugged and continued to look around the pub. 

“Uh,” he trailed off, looking at the menu. “Two shots of Jack Daniels, please.”

“Coming right up.” The bartender winked, making Hermione snort. Harry looked far too uncomfortable and far too amusing.

What started out as two shots became ten and they weren’t only tipsy; they were straight up pissed drunk. 

“I swear to God, I’ve fancied her ever since I went to UNI and Ron knew that!” Harry continued his story of how his best friend has stolen the girl he apparently ‘fancies’.

“Well, tell you what, your ‘best friend’ isn’t worth it. And the girl, too. I mean, why pass up opportunities such as these? Like, getting drunk on this shitty pub is the place to be!” Hermione exclaimed before erupting in a fit of giggles, Harry soon joining her. 

“We better leave, that bartender girl has been eyeing me up since we first got here. She gives me the creeps.” 

Hermione scrunched up her nose before laughing. “Not before we put that jukebox to good use, though. I could use a karaoke buddy.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, then? Let’s go sing our arses out!”

The next thing they knew, they were singing like there was no tomorrow and they’ve gotten quite an audience, too. The whole situation made Hermione feel like she was part of some movie musical and they were the lead acts. 

“I wanna know what love is!” Harry shouted, clenching his fists and crunching his eyebrows. 

“I want you to show me!” Hermione playfully pointed at Harry, fluttering her eyes.   
“I wanna-“ Harry cuts himself off with his own laughter, somehow inching closer to Hermione. 

“We’re a bit mad, aren’t we?” Hermione questions, her eyes beaming with tears of laughter. 

“Yeah, definitely.” 

They stared at each other for a while, their laughter slowly dying and the cheers from their ‘audience’ growing faint. The matching grins on their faces were wearing off, replacing with a look of passion. 

“I-“

Harry presses his lips to Hermione’s, completely throwing her off guard, but not enough for her not to kiss back. They kissed like it was the first time yet the last. Hermione could barely breathe, but she didn’t ever want the kiss to stop. Unfortunately, like everything that’s good, it came to an end. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Harry proposes, breathing hardly. 

Hermione nodded her head in silent agreement, her cheeks flushing at the possibilities of what the outcome of tonight might be. The night was still young, after all. 

The rest of the night was spent with too much giggling and clothes flying everywhere and hair pulling and it was all a mess again, really. But Hermione realized that that’s the best thing about Harry and her; they manage to make a mess of everything and still have fun. Some china vases were broken and a lamp fell off, but everything was simple and comfortable and slow and right.

The next morning, Hermione had a minor heart attack upon the realization that she wasn’t in the private premises of her flat. Then, she had another one upon realizing that she was naked. And another one at the fact that she couldn’t see any sign of her clothing _anywhere._

She carefully unwrapped the covers around her; silently wishing that whoever were in bed with her would stay asleep. She was, though, surprised when she saw no one lying beside her. 

Her confusion was short lived when she heard the sizzling sound of what could only be bacon coming from outside the room.

Shit, she thought as she raked her hands in the mess that she calls her hair. _How can I leave when I literally have to go past him?_

Bracing herself for what’s to come, she took a deep breath. She stood up stark naked from the very comfy bed and took it upon herself to dig into the drawers of clothing inside the room and shrugging on a decent shirt. 

She quietly stepped out the room she was in after a few pep talks (what? Her one-night stands never end up like this!) And walked towards what she had hoped was the kitchen. The smell of bacons, pancakes and fruits filled her senses and she fights back a hum of approval. 

“You’re awake, then.” Hermione jumped at the sound of a voice, his voice.

“You scared me,” she breathed out before eyeing the bloke up. She remembers now. His name was Harry and he somehow convinced her to get drunk last night!

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” He smiled sheepishly before turning his attention back to the stove.

Hermione can understand why she had slept with him, under the influence of alcohol or not. He was hot, but also cute at the same time. The slight stubble in his chin made him look more mature and only hotter, his pale skin surprisingly alluring. 

“Uh, Harry, right?” she asks. Seeing him nod, Hermione continues. “I hope you don’t mind, I kind of went through your stuff and borrowed this shirt.”

“Not at all, it’s fine.” He shakes his head, flashing her a genuine smile. 

“Harry, where exactly am I?”

“Well, you’re in my flat, obviously.”

She blushed, fighting back a grin at his smart-arse answer. “I knew that. What I mean is, where in London.”

“Well, you’re in Central London near...” he trailed off, pointing towards the window. Hermione looked over her shoulder and out the same window only to see The London Eye. 

“Is that?”

“Yeah, nice view, isn’t it?” he confirms quite proudly. 

“Well, I don’t live too far from here, that’s a relief. I should go.” Hermione states, shifting around to look for her clothes from the night before.

“Wait, aren’t you going to stay for breakfast?” Harry questions, his accent ringing in the air.   
“No, no, I don’t want to intrude. Besides, I really need to go.” 

“Please? I can’t finish all this by myself, you know.”

“Harry,” she says in a warning tone. 

“Hermione,” he mocks her. 

The sound of his voice saying her name surprisingly made tingles shoot down Hermione’s spine. It was so wrong to feel so deeply for a mere… stranger, that’s what he is. Yet she already slept with him. 

Hermione internally groaned. She never does something like this, and if she did, she always had plan B and the guy usually turn out to be a complete douche. Harry, though, he’s different. 

His tone of voice was sweet and calm; his presence itself was calming, and-

God, she really should stop thinking like this. 

“I’d love to stay and eat and all but really, I have a class that starts in-“ Hermione pauses to look at her wrist watch, “half an hour and I still need to shower and cram for my English test.”

“C’mon, missing one class wont hurt.” He continued to insist, turning off the stove and walking towards her. 

She chuckles, shaking her head with raised brows. “We’ve only known each other for one night and you’re already being a bad influence. Not a good start, Harry.”

He put his arms up in defense, his green eyes light and teasing. “Sue me.”

Hermione only chuckled, biting her lip to stop the splitting smile that’s threatening to show. “What would I get in return?”

“Well, aside from my very, to-die-for cooking?” he jokes. “You’d have to stay to find out.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped, her cheeks yet again flushing. “Oh, you’re good.” 

Harry laughs, tilting his head to the side and doing a very non-manly curtsey. “I try.”

She sighs, looking at him fondly for a moment before nodding her head. “Fine. I’ll stay.” Harry pumps his fist in the air, shouting a ‘yeah’ in triumph. “This food better be as ‘to-die-for’ as you promised, then.”

They chatted for what seemed like forever, getting to know each other well. Harry told her about his best friend, Ron, and Hermione noticed how good of a friend Harry truly is. His best friend had, in some ways, betrayed him but he still spoke so highly of him. Nowadays it’s difficult to find a friend like that. 

“You’re a good person, Harry. I wish I’ve known you earlier.” Hermione smiled, nibbling with what’s left of her (yes, it is to-die-for) food. 

“Well, you can start getting to know me now.”

“I can, can’t I?” 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”


End file.
